


Of Coughing and Fevers

by spocksbrowneyes



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bones has cute pet names for Spock, Caring James T. Kirk, Caring Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Pneumonia, Post-Star Trek Beyond, Sick Spock (Star Trek), Worried Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25017874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spocksbrowneyes/pseuds/spocksbrowneyes
Summary: Spock is sick, and his boyfriends care for him.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Comments: 5
Kudos: 115





	Of Coughing and Fevers

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, thanks for being here. Both alive and on this fic. Also, I understand that this is kind of long for a 1 chapter fic, but I had fun writing it, too many ideas, and crammed them all into one fic anyways. And just a heads up, the "g" key on my computer has been acting weird, so if there are some "g"s missing, just tell me. I've looked it over and tried to find where I'm missing them, but I might have missed some.

Spock was sat at his science station on the bridge like normal, only, he didn’t feel normal. He’d had a bitch of a headache for the past week, stifling coughs all day, the scratch deep in his throat making it difficult. He felt weak and his muscles hurt, in the past few days a stomach ache joined the mix, he was sure that if it weren’t for his nonexistent appetite he would’ve thrown up.

The only reason he’d been going to work is that despite feeling like he would keel over at any minute, there was work to do, and he was trained to control illnesses. However, whatever this was, was mocking him. He had a bit of a hunch, but at the moment he would trust Jim when he’s shitfaced drunk with yet another bottle of Brandy more than his own head right then. 

All that aside, they’d beamed down to a planet to deliver supplies a 2 weeks ago, but as soon as they got back onboard a pathogen of some sort was detected by the transporter. Leonard had checked everybody out and deemed them fit for duty. Nobody had any symptoms of any kind and the pathogen itself was similar to that of one from Orion. That virus, in particular, had caused problems for the planet about a decade ago, but all of the Orions aboard the ship were vaccinated against it, so McCoy reasoned that they’d be okay against this one.

As illogical as it was, as nobody had gotten sick on the entire ship with anything worse than a mild case of the flu, Spock wondered if he’d contracted the mysterious pathogen, and was in fact, not okay. However, Spock reasoned that the likelihood of that being the case was less than 6.89%, or was it 11.43%? He felt a sudden tap on his shoulder, he looked around to see Jim standing next to him, leaning on the console a bit.

“Capitan. Can I assist you with anything?”

“No, not really,” Jim shrugged. Spock nodded and went back to work. Jim quirked his face a bit, Spock didn’t look normal, he had a cough that he couldn’t seem to shake for the past week or so, but today, he just looked peaky. Much worse than he did last night. He’d also been avoiding Bones at all costs, and assuming they didn’t have a fight that Jim either (a) didn’t cause or (b) wasn’t a part of, he didn’t know quite why. He hadn’t gone to the rec room with them, a date that was pretty regular for the threesome. Even when they went to the observation deck, he hadn’t gone.

Basically, Spock didn’t want Leonard to know about whatever it was that was ailing him. Jim wanted to address Spock but didn’t because as stoic as the Vulcan could be, he was easily flustered, especially when it came to being sick. Probably another reason for avoiding his Southern boyfriend, who happened to be a doctor. 

Jim went over to Sulu and Chekov to see what they were doing and then went back to his chair. It was a calm day, nothing special, they were just going through space working on what they had to work on, waiting for the next planet they’d come across. An alarm beeped on the bridge, Jim looked at the chronometer and smiled. 1200 hours.

“Uhura, open a shipwide channel please.”

Uhura quickly went to flipping all those switches that Jim would never be able to understand.

A blip of confirmation came through, “Channel open sir.”

Jim nodded to her, “Attention crew of the  _ Enterprise _ . Alpha shift is now over, report for Beta shift in 30 minutes.”

The channel closed, and the crew began moving out. Some off for the rest of the day, and others just happy for their lunch break. The bridge was soon empty, save for Jim, who was sending off a couple of reports before he forgot, the 2 Lieutenants who were on bridge watch for the next 30 minutes, and Spock, who never tended to take a lunch break. Or just a break.

Jim set the PADDs aside, and stood up, “You guys can hold down the fort right?”

The Lieutenants nodded eagerly.

Jim looked to Spock, “Commander? Could you come with me?”

Spock looked at Jim, a bit surprised, “Of course Capitan.”

He stood up, shutting down his station. He was almost grateful for the interruption. His head was hurting, and inturn his eyes from looking at the screen for so long. He followed Jim out, consciously trying to walk and not shuffle. Jim turned down an empty hallway but stopped and looked at Spock, his eyebrows knitted.

“Are you okay?”

The question kind of caught Spock by surprise, “I am fine, sir.”

The two shared a look. Spock didn’t call him by “sir” when he wasn’t on the bridge, and even then it was a rare occurrence. The expressions between the two seemed to have a nonverbal conversation.

“Spock seriously.”

“I am fine Jim,” Spock insisted.

Jim’s face and tone were dripping with concern, “You don’t seem okay to me. Please just go to sickbay. If not for yourself, then for me.”

Spock was about to respond when a violent series of coughs racked his body, forceful enough to make his vision blur out. 

Jim put steadying hands on his shoulders once the attack had passed, “You gonna pass out on me?”

Spock didn’t feel all that stable, and his vision was out of wack but slowly fading back to normal.

Spock shook his head, “No.”

Jim pressed a kiss to Spock’s too warm cheek, “Please just go see Bones. You’re worrying me.”

Spock sighed in defeat when Jim’s communicator buzzed, Sulu’s voice coming over the line, “Capitan, Admiralty wants to speak with you.”

“I’ll be there is a minute,” Jim replied, flipped the communicator shut, giving his full attention back to Spock, “Do you want me to walk you to Medbay?” 

“I can manage, Jim,” Spock rasped.

Jim nodded, “You’re off duty for the rest of the day by the way. Just get some sleep or whatever Bones says to do.”

Spock nodded.

Jim smiled, and gave Spock a kiss, “Give Bones a hug for me.”

Jim’s communicator beeped again, and instead of answering, he started booking it down the corridor, and out of sight. Spock looked down the hall, sickbay was 4 decks down, a short walk and turbolift ride away. Spock started to walk but suddenly felt like the room was spinning, and leaned up against the wall for a few minutes trying to stabilize himself.

He pushed onward and kept walking. He couldn’t execute his steps with nearly as much grace as usual. It felt like he was just stumbling, he assumed that if someone who didn’t know the current situation, they probably would have called medical, saying their First Officer was drunk and wandering around the ship. Spock almost longed for it, for someone from medical to just show up around the corner or something. It was a highly illogical thought. He was trained to control himself, therefore illness.

Spock went on trudging forward, his headache pounding, and nausea worse than before. The pain in his muscles seemed to be overshadowed by the weakness. He practically fell into a wall, trying to stable himself, the room spinning violently in his head. It suddenly felt as if he couldn’t hold himself up anymore, and the last thing he remembered before the blackness, was the sound of footsteps coming down the hall.

\----------

Everything was dark. Muscles still aching, and head hurting, Spock’s eye fluttered open to gentle shaking, there was a blue blur above him, and a light shining in his face. 

“Spock? Spock are you with me?”

The blur slowly came into focus, Leonard. He nodded, slightly confused as to where he was and what he was doing there. He quickly realized, he was in sickbay. 

He shuffled up into a sitting position, “Leonard?”

Leonard wrapped him in a hug, “You had me worried, darlin’. I’m just goin’ about my day and then Jayla comes running in here, sayin’ you were passed out in a hallway on Deck 1 and weren’t waking up for nothin’.”

Spock felt a pang of guilt, he had been avoiding Leonard to prevent exactly what had happened. He hadn’t wanted to worry him. He thought that he could control it like he was trained to, he thought that he’d just run the virus’ course, but it obviously didn’t quite go that way.

McCoy’s hazel eyes looked into his, full of concern, “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I-” Spock was cut off by a violent bout of coughing, more forceful and harsh than last time. The taste of blood in his mouth and wheezing breaths were what he was left with when the onslaught was over.

“Just try to breathe Spock,” McCoy soothed, handing him a small container to spit out the blood in his mouth, “Whatever pathogen you picked up is kind of like pneumonia, so I’ll be keeping an eye on you.” 

“You picked up that virus from Tentvar III, I’ve seen almost everybody who went on the away missions at some point already, and they’ve been fine, the pathogens were gone,” McCoy explained, “But, as viruses tend to do, they multiplied, but only in you. So, I think that while Humans are immune, Vulcans aren’t.”

McCoy started fitting a hypo with a cartridge, “It hasn’t seemed to affect anyone but you, but just in case, stay away from the other non-human crew members,” he pressed the hypo into Spock’s neck, “Should be easy because you’re not going to work for the next few weeks.”

Spock opened his mouth to protest, but Bones cut him off, “Doctor’s orders.”

Leonard crossed his arms, “I’m also assuming it has something to do with the fact that you’ve run from me all week.”

Spock raised his eyebrow a bit, “I do not believe I have run from you at any point this week.”

McCoy smiled a bit, Spock knew what he meant, but then there’s always the chance that maybe he didn’t. It was almost charming to him how Spock was so smart and yet didn’t understand such common terms. Of course, he had to cut him some slack as he wasn’t from Earth so Terran expressions and metaphors weren’t as familiar to him. No matter, it was funny.

Spock realized there was a strange sensation in his lower bicep, not one he’d felt before. He looked down and there was a large needle of some sort poked into his skin, it was connected to a line that was administering some kind of clear liquid. He hadn’t noticed it earlier, he huffed a bit, he should have gone to see the doctor earlier in the week, if he had, he could’ve prevented the issues he now had to deal with. It was also something of concerning that he hadn’t noticed a nearly 2-inch needle in his arm. Spock wasn’t one to be scared of needles or blood, and he didn’t know if it was from the illness or the slight shock of seeing a needle of that size in one’s arm, but he felt sick to his stomach and a bit lightheaded. He touched it with his fingers, just brushing along the skin.

Leonard saw the dazed and confused look in his Vulcan boyfriend’s eyes, “That’s just an IV Spock. It’s just some fluids mixed with antibiotics. I know it feels weird but try not to prod at it,” McCoy took up Spock’s arm in his hand to make sure he hadn’t dislodged it, “Is it okay if I leave ya for a few minutes? There are a few things I need to grab for you.”

Spock nodded, still feeling groggy and weird, chest burning. 

Leonard smiled gently at him, “I’ll be right back, don’t get out of bed.” 

Spock nodded again as he watched him leave. Spock was trying to do as Leonard had told him to, just breathe. He was trying to do some of the meditative breaths that often calmed him, but the deep breaths just turned into coughing and more blood. Consciousness was settling in on him, and a constant chill rested heavily on his shoulders, the pounding in his head, the ache in his stomach. It didn’t help that he didn’t have his long-sleeve uniform shirt on, which he credited for the majority of any kind of thermal comfort he felt while on duty. He realized at his moment that he didn’t have his shoes on either. He also noticed that he was wearing his black sweatpants instead of his uniform pants. He’d admit he was slightly embarrassed that someone had changed him out of his clothes, but these were warmer. He felt helpless, blood dripping out of the side of his mouth, but unable to do more than brush it off which just smudged it on his hands. Knowing that someone felt he was pathetic enough that they should change his clothes. He would’ve have gotten up if it weren’t for the IV in his arm and his strong desire not to get a lecture from McCoy. 

“Spock!”

The voice snapped Spock out of his haze. Jim was standing at the foot of the biobed, looking relieved. 

He ran up and hugged Spock, “I’ve been so worried about you! I’m sorry, I tried to get out of that meeting with admiralty but I couldn’t,” kissed Spock’s bloody lips, “God I was so worried about you. Please don’t do that again!”

Jim stood there looking at him, relieved and smiling. He twitched and then wiped the blood off his lips. He laughed, looking at his hand, “Guess that was a little gross.”

Spock nodded, shivering a bit, coughing again, “It was quite unsanitary.”

Leonard came in behind Jim, “What did you do?”

The blonde jumped a bit, not expecting him, “I didn’t do anything!”

Leonard rolled his eyes, setting the things in his hands down, “Then what was so gross?” he sighed, “Please don’t say you threw up. ‘Cause then we have another problem on our hands.”

Jim shrugged, “It’s not a big deal Bones, I wasn’t paying attention, I kissed him, and there was blood on his lips. No biggie.”

McCoy shook his head, unfolding a couple of blankets he’d found and draping them over Spock’s shoulders, “Will you start payin’ more attention then?”

“Aw, but that’s no fun!” Jim whined jokingly.

The doctor rolled his eyes again, and went back to tending to Spock, “You’re not gonna need to stay over here tonight, so once we get home, we can turn the heat on for ya. Make you nice and comfy.”

Jim raised his hand, “We can go to my room, that way we can all cuddle.”

Leonard nodded, “That’ll work, but we’ll be here for a few more hours.”

Jim’s eyes widened, “Hours!? What for?”

McCoy waved a tricorder over Spock, talking as if it was Spock who asked the question, “You’re still a little dehydrated. Fever’s a bit too high for my liking,” he said, considering the sweat on Spock’s brow, “Also, whether or not you’re steady enough to walk will have somethin’ to do with it.”

Leonard pressed a few hypos into Spock’s neck, “That should help with the fever and nausea.”

He grabbed a small bottle of pills and put a few in Spock’s hand, “This is Amoxicillin, you’re already getting Ciprofloxacin through the IV, but they’ll both help.”

Spock took them, and Leonard handed him some water too, “Just tell me if you need a painkiller or whatever, sometimes that stuff makes head and stomach aches worse. I’ve never had you on either before as well, but I think you’ll be okay.”

Spock nodded. Leonard was always aware of his patients, and as gruff as he could be, he really did mean it when he said that they should call if they needed anything. Whenever he had Spock in medbay on a new medication, he’d always been hyperaware of his every move. His hybrid biology made him allergic to a lot of medications that would work with Humans or Vulcan individually but clashed when the two species came together. McCoy had commented before that when it came to medications he was almost worse than Jim with the whole allergy mess. And when it came to Jim, he was always by his side when he was sick, even before their relationship. Mostly because he knew exactly what it felt like to spend 3 hours bracing himself over a sink because he was sick from something that was supposed to help him.

It was kind of funny. They’d spent so much time together, bonding over miserable experiences, all the way from that very moment to when Spock and Leonard were sitting in a hospital room, waiting for Jim to wake up after he died saving the crew, and that one and only time Leonard was sick and they’d all hung out in the doctor’s quarters together. From when Leonard kept Spock going across Altimid, to when Jim had carried him up to their temporary apartment in Yorktown, Leonard behind him, talking about how “the whole mess must’ve worn little guy out” as he fell asleep on the blonde’s shoulder. Spock allowed a small smile to ghost his lips at the memory.

He snapped out of his haze to feel warmth wrapping around him, Jim and McCoy hugging him.

Leonard pressed a kiss to his green-tinged cheek, “You lie down now. You’ll relax more.”

Jim let go, and Leonard helped him down, but he was still elevated enough in that position that his head didn’t succumb to the pressure. A kind of happy medium, soothing his headache a bit.

  
  


McCoy wrapped the blankets around him a little tighter, and ran his hand through Spock’s fluffy bangs, “You tell me if you need anythin’.”

He turned to Jim, pointing to the extra space on the biobed, “Jim, up.”

Jim looked confused, “Why? What’d I do?”

Leonard crossed his arms, “I’m pretty sure you know.”

Jim put an innocent hand on his chest, “I’m pretty sure I don’t.”

Spock tried to stifle a cough, not wanting to interrupt them but failed, the harsh coughing interrupting their conversation. 

“I apologize,” Spock rasped, only to cough again afterward and brush the green blood dripping down his chin away with his hand.

Jim got up to run out of the space, but McCoy caught him by the collar of his shirt.

“It’s not a problem, peaches,” he said gently. After all, it technically was Spock’s space right now, so if anyone should be apologizing it was them. He handed the miserable Vulcan a towel to clean his hands with and the little container to spit the blood out.

McCoy looked over to Jim with a cold glare, his demeanor the complete opposite, “You missed a physical that I’ve rescheduled 3 times for you. Now sit your ass down ‘cause we’re doin’ it know.”

Jim hung his head in defeat as he hopped up on the bed, looking over to Bones as he grabbed a tricorder and whatnot, petting Spock’s silky hair gently as he did. Jim sat there, sure, he was pissed that his evasions had failed, but he loved watching his boyfriends. Leonard was so soft and sweet with both of them, and he felt truly privileged and trusted when Spock was willing to be vulnerable around them. Sure, he got a bit rougher treatment from Bones sometimes, but that was all good fun and came from their years as friends (Jim’s non-compliance with his health didn’t anything to do with it, no, of course not) but they all loved each other. He loved them, Leonard’s rare smile and laugh that only they really got to see, Spock’s quirks that he hid and his puppy eyes that always spoke through his emotionless facade.

Leonard walked back over to him, waving his tricorder over him and looking at the results. When he looked up at Jim, he was making a poor attempt at mimicking Spock’s puppy eyes. Jim knew he couldn’t do it, he’d tried in a mirror before. Somehow Spock just did it better. Jim wasn’t sure if it was the color, the emotion they held, or just that they were naturally big. He never made them bigger on purpose, it just happened.

McCoy’s eyebrows knitted with confusion, “This isn’t an eye exam Jim. What are you doing?”

Jim laughed, “Ouch.”

Leonard jabbed him with a hypo, “Ouch!”

Rubbing the area as McCoy put in another cartridge, Jim whined, “Now that actually hurt. Your other comment just hurt my dignity but that actually hurt.”

Leonard pressed another hypo into his neck, “Well was it humbling at least?”

Jim had a smug look on his face, “It didn’t hurt  _ that _ bad.”

Spock looked over to them, clearly confused. Leonard looked over to him, pointing at Jim, “He’s trying to imitate you. He thinks that if he makes his eyes big enough I won’t hypo him or some shit,” Spock raised an eyebrow, confused. McCoy tried to clarify, “You have big eyes. To most people, big eyes are cute and we don’t want to bring discomfort upon cute things. He doesn’t want me to give him all the hypos he’s missed. And he’s tryin’ to look cute or whatever to stop me.”

“I fail to see how that would be effective as the size of my eyes has ever prevented you from-” Spock cut himself off with another harsh bout of coughing, causing his vision to blur out and his head to spin. It hurt his battered throat and he was realizing that Leonard really hadn’t been kidding when he said that the medication could mess with his head and stomach. It almost seemed like an understatement.

McCoy was quickly at his side, wiping the blood off of his face and pressing a hypospray to his neck. Jim was there too, wrapping the blankets back around him. He really did hate being this helpless. All he could seem to do as lay there, making more problems for Leonard, worrying Jim.

Leonard stood next to him, gently kneading his back, “You’re not making problems for us Spock. It’s okay.”

Spock looked over to him, half shocked, half ashamed. He didn’t like not having control over his thoughts and didn’t generally just broadcast them over the bond he shared with Jim and Leonard. But the pain and just general misery were making that control difficult. McCoy waved a tricorder over him and seemed satisfied a the results.

He turned to look at Jim, “Jim? Could you go into Spock’s room and grab a hoodie or somethin’ for him?”

Jim nodded, “Of course.”

He hopped ran out of the medbay, half out of an urgency to help Spock, but also to get the hell out of there. He wasn’t very fond of that place.

  
  


Leonard turned back to Spock, laughing a bit, “I think he’s under the impression that he got out of his physical,” he grabbed Spock’s shoes, handing them to him, “You never said anythin’ about any pain or discomfort from the Amox, you feelin’ alright from all that?”

Spock didn’t say anything, he didn’t like admitting that he felt unwell, that was pretty obvious when you looked at his track record. He just slid his boots back on, nausea rising again as he bent over to reach his feet.

McCoy grabbed a few hypos, and loaded them, “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Lay back,” he said, pushing Spock back against the biobed, “You need to tell me when you don’t feel well Spock. Especially when you’re on new stuff.”

Leonard pressed a hypospray into the base of Spock’s neck, “This should help with the headache, and bring your fever down,” he put the next one in, “This’ll help with nausea.” 

“I got what you wanted,” Jim announced, walking in dutifully, a hoodie in hand.

Leonard grabbed the hoodie and set it on the bed. Jim went up to Spock, and gave him a kiss, “Bones didn’t bother you too much while I was gone, right?”

McCoy scoffed, “You really talk lowly of someone who’s pulled your ass out of as many sticky situations as I have.”

“I do not see his presence as bothersome,” Spock managed to rasp before coughing again.

Jim hopped up next to Spock slinging his arm over his back, massaging the half-Vulcan’s tense shoulders a bit, “I know. I was joking.”

He looked to McCoy, who was grabbing something out of a drawer, “Bones, think we can head out soon?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking at whatever it was that was in his hands as he walked back over to the bedside.

Jim snapped his finger suddenly, “Oh yeah! Spock, I talked to Marlena today, Lieutenant Marlena Moreau, she said that she’ll take over sciences while you’re out. She did really well on the bride today. I get why you like her. Very competent.”

Spock nodded, about to say something before there was a sharp pinch in his left arm. He looked over to see an apologetic look on McCoy’s face as he wrapped gauze around Spock’s upper arm.

“Sorry about that. I was just taking out your IV,” Leonard explained.

Jim climbed off the bed, “Does that mean we can go home now?”

McCoy rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Don’t hide your excitement too much Jim.”

Leonard turned to Spock, who was putting the hoodie Jim had brought him on, “You ready to go?”

Spock nodded, gently hopping off the bed. They walked out of the sickbay, a little slowly, but no one seemed to care. They’d stopped a few times as hey walked down the hallway, Spock getting dizzier and dizzier as they went. Eventually, Leonard just picked him up and carried him.

They got off the turbolift and started walking to Jim’s room when he piped up, “What do you guys think the likely hood of Starfleet actually accepting our relationship and not being completely phobic about it?”

“32.4%,” Spock coughed.

Leonard shrugged, “Jim, they can hate us for it, but most of the crew accepts it and isn’t like that. If they try to take away our posts or ranks and whatnot, there’ gonna be a backlash.”

Jim keyed in the code for his room, “Eh, you’ve got a point.”

The door swished open and the threesome walked in.

“Computer,” Jim called out, “Set heat to Vulcan standard.”

Leonard put Spock down, allowing him to take his shoes off. 

Jim wandered into his little kitchenette, keying something into the replicator, “You guys want anything to eat?”

McCoy shrugged, “Sure. I don’t really care what.”

Jim added another order of what he was getting, ramen, and then turned back to them, “Spock, you want anything?”

“No thank you,” Spock rasped, shuffling with Leonard’s help. McCoy brought him over to the couch, smiling at him, “Spock, that’s the hoodie that I left at your place isn’t it?”

Spock looked at the soft black fabric he was practically cloaked in as if it was too big for him, “I believe it is.”

Jim grabbed some of the chopsticks he’d bought on shore leave from one of the drawers. He wasn’t one to buy things like utensils, they were really easy to find, you could ask replicators for them, but these were an exception. He’d been at a really cool outdoor market with Leonard and Spock, on New Vulcan of all places, when he’d seen them. They were made of wood, which was already rare on Earth, but on places like New Vulcan? It was hard to find a flower there, let alone a tree. And while Jim would agree, that yes, he paid way too much for them, they were cool. Even Spock sometimes just looked at them for the hell of admiring the design that had been carefully etched into them.

Jim put the utensils in the bowls and picked them up, “Bones, you want to eat over there?”

Before waiting for a response he started walking over, “I don’t think we’ll spill broth all over ourselves,” he shrugged, “I eat over here all the time.”

The three got themselves situated, snuggling Spock in the middle, resting his head on Jim’s thigh, curled up in a ball. He’d been asleep within the 5 minutes after he laid down, waking up to cough a couple of times, but overwise out. He was snoring softly, something he never did unless he was under very rare circumstances, but both Leonard and Jim found to be quite adorable. Jim was leaning up next to the armrest, resting his chin on a fist and feet up on the coffee table, reading their next mission guidelines aloud. Leonard was on the opposite side of Spock, sat crisscrossed on the couch, gently kneading his Vulcan lover’s back, checking his pulse, which had previously been a bit too fast earlier in the day.

Jim looked at Leonard pausing mid-sentence when he saw the adoring way that he looked at Spock. The same way he looked at Jim and Jim looked at him and Spock. And the same way Spock looked at him and Jim. The way they all looked at each other. Full of adoration, love, and dedication.

Jim smiled, “He’s cute when he sleeps isn’t he?”

McCoy nodded happily, “Sure is. And to think that we used to hate each other.”

“Yeah,” Jim sighed, “You ever wish that Pike could see us now? Or that we’d met Amanda and she could see how far he’s come?”

“They’d both be proud Jim. I’m sure everyone we’ve lost would’ve been.”

“Yeah,” Jim said a smile returning to his face.

Jim felt Spock put his warm hand on his wrist, looking down to see Spock looking up at him, still a little groggy.

Jim pulled Spock up, wrapping him in a hug, Leonard joining them, “I love you guys.”

“Love you too,” Leonard hummed.

“I ashaya du u’ muhl,” Spock mumbled.

They all snuggled into each other a bit more, and in one cuddled group, drifted off.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first time writing the Trimutive, so if you have any suggestions, go nuts. Just random funny thing, when I was writing the "...hurting to some extent for the past few days," part it suggested, "hurting to some extent for the past few centuries," and I was just like, uh no, I'm not touring my boi like that. Another weird thing like this that happened was when I was writing the "You’re off duty for the rest of the day" part, it wanted to fill it in as "You’re off duty for the rest of your life." It's just like, well damn Grammarly, it's really all or nothing with you now ain't it?
> 
> Also, random side tangent, you know the Vulcan nerve pinch? When I was writing the part where Kirk was rubbing Spock's shoulder, I thought, what if Spock had tried to do something similar to comfort Jim or Leonard when they were stressed out but nerve pinched them by accident. Like at the start of their relationship because he isn't usually touching someone's shoulder unless he'd doing that, and just autopilots all of a sudden, and just knocks them out. And he kind of just sits there in shock for a few minutes after moving them to like a bed or something just like, "well...crud."
> 
> I ashaya du u’ muhl: I love you too.


End file.
